2 November 2014

The M of L

So, what were you saying the meaning of life is? 

It's a single star we find at the bottom of a well of cloud. It's the hiss and crackle of Diwali fireworks and the dog in every room, barking. It's a night train, brightly lit and empty, picking up speed. It's a hawk and then another, hovering beside the road in a blustery wind. It's the one wind turbine that isn't turning. It's a face you'd like to see, if they'd only turn around. It's the sound of a movie playing in another room, your younger days. It's the sound of our ten feet kicking through leaves, the four of us. It's a pink glove reaching out from a corner heap of windblown leaves. It's dusk descending and the dog catching sight of his ghost self in the glass. It's an owl, white shriek from the pitch-black woods. It's whatever's in the torch beam and little else. It's the long black hair of night, with three sounds braided together: wind, rain and hillside stream. It's the braying of a donkey somewhere on the opposite hillside. It's autumn sunlight stumbling down a vertiginous wooded slope. It's a man in a red plaid jacket collecting eggs, carrying them back in the crook of his arm. It's the whole mill town deep in shadow, sunlight on the surrounding hills. It's a stone buddha cross-legged on the canal boat foredeck. It's a few quiet moments at the grave of someone you loved.

(My "It's-ku" from the last few days, in and around Hebden Bridge, gathered.)



  1. Wonderful to be carried in this stream of words so rich in images. The M of L is to live exactly as stated above, with a honed attention to detail. And gratitude.

  2. Hi, Peter, delighted you could stop by, and thank you for commenting.

    Very pleased that you seem to understand where I'm going with these It's-ku (as I'm calling them for want of any better name.) Actually, I think I may have stumbled upon something quite interesting here.) -M